


little rivers trickle slowly (or the five times the Earth empire wounded lives, and the five times they were able to heal)

by Lee_Mix



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little rivers trickle slowly.  </p><p>(Or the five times the Earth empire wounded lives, and the five times they were able to heal.)</p><p>War brings about tragedy. Some destroy lives, others redeem them. In death or life, humans struggle for survival, even in the wake of peace. Kuvira may have sought to reunite her people, but she succeeded in parting others. The five people the Earth Empire wounded, and the five times they were able to heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the wounds of Asami Sato bleed red

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small collection of tales about five characters that were affected deeply by Kuvira's regime, and how they strive to overcome their personal tragedies.

**asami sato**

The sickening crunch echoed around her ears, watching as a red stream descended from that monstrosity of engineering. Her work, her hummingbird suit, flew no more, and she watched as it crumbled to the ground.

Then the murderer carried on, wistfully, as if the death meant nothing to her, little more than a mere mild inconvenience. Like a bug to be swatted, the stain meant nothing. It could be cleansed later.

It caused a paroxysm of weeping for Asami, every night, ever since. She had not been able to wear her red lipstick since, the colour too reminiscent of the colour that she last saw of her lovingly-cruel father.

_What right did he have to sacrifice himself for the city that I built?_

She blamed him, she hated him, and yet, her heart bled nothing but shame for not being able to save him. It was her design, she should have checked more safety procedures, back-ups, more means of escape, something could have been done…

“Miss Sato, do you have anything to say about the recent turn of events for Republic City? Will Future Industries be compensating for the damage caused by the Earth Empire leader?”

She’d almost let her mind slip back into that dark abyss of reality again, where she relived that moment of her father’s sudden and barbaric end. Underneath her eyes were smeared with black circles, her hair was slightly more disheveled than usual, and her head hurts to live.

“I cannot answer that at this current time. President Raiko has yet to come to a conclusion of what to be done about the newly arrived spirit portal.”

“But what of the people? Surely you have considered how their lives will be ruined by this turn of events?”

_And what of me? My father died for this cause, yet your papers only print the tales of old. People cling to the familiar, I didn’t realize how familiar distrust could be to some, and how archaic the thought of redemption being possible could appear to others._

“I’m sure Asami has a plan of action, but revealing it now would cause chaos. Please, any questions you have, President Raiko will be able to answer. In the mean time, I have to speak with Asami.”

She saw Korra lead the reporters away, the flashing of their cameras and their voices with their barbaric questions, and she breathed a heavily sigh of relief. If only the voices in her head would stop replaying the same act in the tragedy that was her life, she may have been able to find some semblance of peace.


	2. the memories of Mako burn hot

**mako**

He still heard the noises, sometimes.

When he slept, the electric current pulsed through his veins once again, making his forearm hot, _boiling_ , and the skin slowly peeled to reveal raw wounds that wouldn’t heal, nor cease in their pain.

When awake, he avoided the golden glow that touched even the darkest crevices of Republic City, the landmark of Korra’s legacy, and he still kept his arm bound in bandages, even after the pain is no longer physical.

Bolin worried after him, knocking on his apartment door from time-to-time, but other pressing matters (such as Kuvira’s trial) were more prominent than imaginary pain, so Mako dealt with it the best way he knew how; ignore it, walk upon it, and stay silent.

People constantly brought it up.

 _“You were so brave!”_ They would cheer out loud.

 _“Please. Please, stop reminding me.”_ He would plead in his mind.

But like all of his problems, Mako didn’t try to remedy them until he hit breaking point.

It was a late night in his office, stars covered up by the wisps of cloud and making that golden glow ever more prominent. He couldn’t see it, the blinds were drawn, and he focused on a report about some young girl who had been caught in some thievery or another…

The cracks in the blinds had begun to shine light on his face. Instantly, he fell to the floor, eyes squeezed shut. _Go away. Go **away**._

He would have crawled over to shut them again, but something froze him to that one spot on the floor, where he could shield himself from whatever phantoms had invaded his mind. It was his solace, but also his riddle. _How can I get these memories to stop?_

“Mako, I’m heading home for the day. You going to be alright here?”

Lin’s voice called from the doorway, but trailed off when she saw an empty desk, and her best detective on the floor, quivering. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came was a gasp.

“Mako! Are you alright, kid?” Her head jerked around first, surveying the area for any signs of attack, but the only blades were the jabs of memories circulating around his head.

“ _Can’t_ \--” He wheezed, back in the void. Electricity flies, ripping the skin off his arm, _so hot, so_ **hot** _._

“Mako, Mako.” She shook his shoulders, “you need to look at me, okay? I’m not letting anything happen to you. It’s just us two here. So look at me.” It was a direct order, and somehow, the murkiness of his mind began to clear, and he managed to crane his head upward.

“ _Chief_ \--” He murmured, but was cut off.

“Mako, don’t try to speak. I just need you to breath. Remember that. Dammit, kid, you’re one of my best, I am not losing you to whatever shit is in your head. So breath.”

Her tone was like that of stone, cold but sturdy, and he found himself able to put his feet on the ground again. Mako breathed, as she instructed (he wouldn’t disobey a Bei Fong, much less Lin) but it was shakier than he would have liked it to be.

They were slow breaths, but he was able to copy her rhythm for a short time. Then, he relaxed, and Lin’s hands left his shoulders. He leant against his desk, his head in his hand.

“How long?” Lin asked, sitting next to him.

“...Too long.” He replied.

He could feel Lin rolling her eyes, but to his surprise, she didn’t leave him alone.

“I’ve been in this force for over thirty years, kid.” He glanced over at her, and it is now that he can see Lin. Not as his commander, nor his chief, but as the aged woman who had spent her life trying to wear her mother’s shoes, only for her to discover too late that Toph Bei Fong never wore shoes. “I’ve seen this before. It doesn’t get better if you try and pretend it’s not there.”

“I’ve managed before.” He grumbled in retaliation, and Lin laughed at him.

“Stubborn as a damn bison. Mako, it won’t get better if you ignore it. You need to get help for whatever it is you’re going through.”

“Where would I get it from, hm?” He ran his hand through his hair, “Wu is getting on with his life, Korra’s moving on, Asami’s busy--”

“It doesn’t just have to be your friends, kid. You’ve got family that loves you.” Lin’s words were true, and Mako knew that. But her words were foreign to him, and that scared him. He shot up back onto his feet, his hands gripping his hair.

“You don’t _get_ it!” His voiced raised, but Lin was barely affected. “I don’t want to burden my family--especially Bolin--anymore than I have to, and my parents are already dead, Lin!”  
  
He let out a bitter laugh. “I keep messing up whenever I act on my damn emotions, I’ve got to live with all that romance bullshit that I put Korra and Asami through three years ago because I couldn’t make up my damn mind up about what I wanted! So tell me, chief, who do I turn to?!”

His shoulders jerked, and Mako’s throat released a mewled sob. He crouched back to the ground and clawed his fingers in his hair. Though Lin put a hand on his back, it did little to null the pain.

_ “Who do I count on, chief?” _


End file.
